


Not Quite Certain

by esperink



Series: Nonbinary Jeremy (the Not Quite series) [4]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Femininity, Gen, How Do I Tag, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Jeremy Heere, One Shot, POV Third Person Limited, Post-Canon, Post-Squip, it is like 31 words off of 3k, it's very long though, jer's dad doesn't know what's going on but he's trying to be supportive, unintentional misgendering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-07 22:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14091060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esperink/pseuds/esperink
Summary: In which Mr. Heere notices something different about Jeremy, but he's not quite certain how he'd explain it to others if asked.





	Not Quite Certain

**Author's Note:**

> shoot, man, my longest one shot yet, almost 3K words. can you believe it. anyway, here, have mr. heere trying to make sense of Jeremy.

The first time Mr. Heere notices something is up  with Jeremy is on a Saturday night. Christine had stayed the night previously, so when he finds a galaxy-patterned skirt that he’s never seen before in a usually covered corner of the laundry room, he assumes that she’s accidentally left it behind.

“Jeremy?” he calls out to his son, who is in his room. “Did Christine forget something?”

He hears the television in the room shut off, then footsteps to his location. Jeremy stands at the doorway of the laundry room. “What do you mean?” Jeremy asks.

Mr. Heere holds up the skirt. He sees Jeremy’s eyes widen slightly, in something like fear, before taking a deep breath. He takes it from his father, looking it over for a moment as if checking for wear, before saying, “No, she didn’t forget anything.” And with the skirt still in his hands, Jeremy turns and goes back to his room.

Mr. Heere stands there in confusion for a few moments, before casting a glance towards his son’s room. He’d have to talk to him later, he decides, before going back to what he’d been doing previously.

The incident is mostly forgotten, until Mr. Heere notices color on Jeremy’s nails while they’re doing a Spring Cleaning, which Jeremy had suggested for something for them to do together. The color catches Mr. Heere’s eye while Jeremy sweeps small debris into a pile.

Jeremy’s nails have been painted a light blue and it is almost subtle enough to not be noticed by a stranger. It’s clear that they’re not done professionally; the paint had gone over the edges of the nails, a little on the skin.

The act of observing does not go unnoticed for long. Jeremy looks up from his work and notices his father trying to study him, and his hands instinctively curl within themselves, covering most of his nails except those on his thumbs.

The polish is gone by dinner time.

He knows that Michael and Christine are aware of what’s going on. He isn’t exactly sure what gives it away, but he also knows that they are Jeremy’s two closest friends.

The two come over for a movie marathon with Jeremy, once. They exchange glances with each other when Mr. Heere called Jeremy over with a “son!” It doesn’t go unnoticed, but they still say nothing as Jeremy takes them to his room.

Mr. Heere, at first, assumes that maybe Jeremy’s gay, or that he’s one of those boys who likes wearing cosmetics and feminine things. But signs point elsewhere.

The way Jeremy occasionally tenses up when he calls him ‘son’ or when he gets his and Michael’s attention with ‘boys’, or when he reprimands him with a “young man”. The last time he’d done that last thing, Jeremy had actually flinched.

The conversations between the friends that he overhears. Where Christine says, “did Jeremy tell their dad yet?” and Michael replies “No, I don’t think so”, or where Christine addresses Jeremy and Michael separately: “You’re a good guy Michael, and you’re a good person, Jer.”

He’s even heard the Mell wives refer to Jeremy differently. He will occasionally have a chat with them, and both of them will refer to his son and Michael as ‘our kids’, or ‘your kid and our son’ instead of ‘our sons’ or ‘our boys’.

It’s almost bizarre, being Jeremy’s father and hearing someone else refer to his kid as anything other than ‘his son’.

The first time he actually sees Jeremy in the galaxy-patterned skirt, instead of assuming he’d worn it after finding it in the dirty laundry, Mr. Heere had to talk to Jeremy about something. So he’d gone to Jeremy’s room, since that is where he and Michael were hanging out.

“Jeremy?” Mr. Heere had said, knocking on the door.

“Yeah?” Jeremy calls back, which Mr. Heere takes as an ok to step inside.

Michael and Jeremy are playing their Apocalypse of the Damned game, eyes trained on the screen and looks of concentration on their faces. They’re sitting on their bean bag chairs. Jeremy is wearing the galaxy skirt, legs crossed at the ankles.

Mr. Heere notices that Jeremy tenses when he’s aware that he’d stepped inside, his concentration broken as he glances over at his father. His video game character dies, and shortly afterwards, Michael’s does too.

“Hey Mr. Heere,” Michael greets, and Mr. Heere returns his greeting with a little wave.

“Hey son,” Mr. Heere says, taking note of Jeremy’s flinching. “I’m going on a business trip for a few days. Think you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Jeremy replies, fiddling with the controls on his console controller.

“You kids stay safe, okay?” the father adds, substituting “you kids” for the usual “you boys”. He notices how Jeremy relaxes slightly and nods, and he let the two teens go back to their game.

Mr. Heere gets back home that Saturday afternoon. Jeremy is in the kitchen, making lunch. When Mr. Heere gets to the kitchen to get a drink, Jeremy starts fidgeting with the hem of a shirt he’d never seen before. It is a [tunic top, blue in color, and had three buttons on the side](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079LF9G39/?coliid=I3PKRD23U8Q45T&colid=3FU1W3U8D2BFS&ref_=lv_ov_lig_dp_it&th=1&psc=1) clearly just for design.

“So, what did you kids get up to while I was gone?” Mr. Heere asks as casually as he possibly can.

“I went to the mall with Christine and Michael,” Jeremy answers, moving the cupboards to grab a bowl. After a moment’s thought he grabs another one, and fills the two bowls with the stew. “We got some new clothes and looked for a new game to play.” The answer to Mr. Heere’s unasked question presents itself.

“You are attached at the hip with those two,” Mr. Heere comments, picking up the bowl Jeremy pushes across the counter at him. He is careful not to say anything about the shirt, and Jeremy relaxes, and they fall into easy conversation.

After that, Jeremy wears that shirt around the house more often. And after a while, he occasionally wears the skirt. But it is never outside, unless it’s to go over to Christine’s or Michael’s house. When he is around other people, or outside in public, he has jeans on.

It is something Mr. Heere notices, at least. Jeremy is walking around the kitchen, mostly out of boredom, and Mr. Heere is vaguely aware of him and that he is wearing the skirt. It is almost normal by this time. they both look up when the doorbell rings though, and Jeremy calls a quick, “be right there!” at the door while he runs to his room. Moments later, he emerges wearing his jeans, and answers the door, letting his friend Rich in.

Mr. Heere at one point comes home while Christine is painting Jeremy’s nails in the kitchen. Jeremy bites his lip but doesn’t look at his father. Christine and Mr. Heere wave at each other, and Christine returns to painting Jeremy’s nails blue.

Jeremy keeps the color on his nails all weekend, but when  Mr. Heere goes to brush his teeth in the bathroom on Monday, he sees Jeremy scrubbing it off with nail polish remover. He seems a little down.

“Hey buddy,” Mr. Heere greets him, grabbing his toothbrush and toothpaste. “What’s up?”

“Just getting ready for school,” Jeremy answers, checking his nails to make sure he’s removed every trace of blue. He sighs somewhat and puts away the polish remover and cotton balls.

Mr. Heere unintentionally makes a small gesture towards Jeremy’s nails, but Jeremy only shakes his head, saying, “Can’t yet…”

It is early May when Mr. Heere overhears the three teens discussing something. He is just passing by in the hallway when he hears Christine say, “Well, you can build up to it!”

Mr. Heere pauses near the door that leads to Jeremy’s bedroom.

“Psh,” Jeremy replies. “They’ll all think I’m weird, whether I build up to it or not.”

“Come on Jer,” Michael says encouragingly. “You could just do one thing at a time. Like maybe have your nails painted. Small things like that. If anyone messes with you, we’ll deal with them. Right?” His question is directed to Christine.

“Right,” Christine confirms.

“Maybe,” Jeremy says with a sigh, and he gets up, so Mr. Heere quickly makes himself scarce.

The next morning Jeremy is standing in the middle of the bathroom, fiddling with a tube of something in his hands. He looks up when his father comes by to shave his face, and he sighs. “What’s up, kid?” Mr. Heere asks.

“Nothing,” Jeremy says, quickly uncapping the tube and applying lip gloss to his lips. He presses his lips together and checks to make sure he did it right. Usually Christine helps with this stuff. But it is a Tuesday morning, and she goes to school early on Tuesdays.

Mr. Heere watches out of the corner of his eye. The lip gloss wouldn’t be too noticeable; it is light and barely sparkly, but it is there. Jeremy puts the cap of the lip gloss back on, opening one of the drawers and throwing it in, then quickly closing it.

“Gotta go,” Jeremy says, leaving the bathroom to grab his backpack, and moments later Mr. Heere hears the front door opening and closing.

Jeremy arrives home that afternoon with a smile on his face. “Had a good day?” Mr. Heere asks, and Jeremy nods. They don’t say much of anything else, until dinner, and even then Mr. Heere minds his own business.

Christine comes over after dinner. It isn’t to be for long, she and Jeremy tell Mr. Heere. They just have to do something for school tomorrow.

“So what colors do you have?” Christine asks her fellow teen, and Jeremy walks to the bathroom, where the drawer can be heard opening and closing. Jeremy comes back to the kitchen with two bottles of nail polish, the light blue Mr. Heere had seen previously, and a light yellow. Christine takes the yellow, and paints Jeremy’s nails carefully as Mr. Heere watches television in the living room.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Jeremy is saying, while waiting for Christine to finish painting his left hand, as his right hand is drying.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Christine reminds him, sounding like she is trying to reassure him.

“No, I want to.”

Christine leaves when she is finished painting Jeremy’s nails, after giving him a kiss on the cheek. “It’s gonna be fine,” she reassures him.

Mr. Heere finds Jeremy in the kitchen the next morning, staring at the polish on his nails as he’s waiting for his toast to finish toasting.

“It’s a nice color,” Mr. Heere comments, and Jeremy’s head shoots up as he instinctively shoves his hands in his pockets. Mr. Heere doesn’t say anything as he pours himself a cup of coffee, adding sugar and milk.

“Thanks,” Jeremy says quietly, finally, and he has to take his hands out of his pockets to grab his toast. He quickly eats his breakfast and is gone before Mr. Heere can finish his coffee.

Mr. Heere isn’t needed at the office today, so he’s able to answer a call he gets from the school.

“Hello? Mr. Heere?” a voice on the other side asks.

“Yes. Is something wrong?” Mr. Heere replies, almost worried.

“Well, your son is refusing to cooperate with his teacher,” the voice continues, and Mr. Heere can imagine Jeremy flinching at ‘son’. “He’s also refusing to cooperate with security and the principal. You may need to come get him.”

“Well, what’s the issue here?” Mr. Heere asks.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware of it, but your son is wearing nail polish, and he’s refusing to remove it, despite the teacher, security, and principal telling him to.”

“Well… why does he need to remove it?” Mr. Heere by now has ceased working, leaning back into his seat.

“Dress code.”

Mr. Heere isn’t totally confident on this, but he is pretty sure the dress code handed out at the beginning of the school year says nothing about nail polish. “So you need me to come and pick him up? Or talk to him?”

“That’s the plan.”

Mr. Heere sighs softly and stands. “Alright, I’ll be there shortly.”

When Mr. Heere arrives at the school, it is the start of the second to last period. It is also a passing time, so he has to weave through the students walking to classes, to make it to the main office. Some of Jeremy’s friends wave to him, and he waves back.

Michael is sitting with Jeremy when he gets there. Michael assures him that he isn’t in trouble, but he isn’t going to leave Jeremy, no matter what security says.

Jeremy looks… sad, almost. There is a hint of anger in his fists and expression, but it is mostly sadness. He looks up and waves quickly when he sees his dad.

“Can I see the dress code policy?” Mr. Heere asks security, and Jeremy perks up slightly, exchanging a look with Michael. After a few minutes of not-quite-arguing, he is handed the school booklet. He flips to the pages with the dress code policy. “I don’t see anything about nail polish,” he says after carefully reading the two pages, looking at the authority figures expectantly.

“That’s what I said!” Jeremy exclaims, blushing when all eyes turn to look at him. He sinks in his seat, but when Mr. Heere offers him a smile, Jeremy manages to give one back. Jeremy leans on Michael’s shoulder with a soft sigh.

“It should be a given,” the teacher nearly snaps. Mr. Heere frowns at her.

“Why’s that?”

“Boys shouldn’t be wearing nail polish.” Mr. Heere notices Jeremy and Michael tense up. “It’s inappropriate.”

Mr. Heere almost laughs. “Inappropriate?” he asks. When the teacher sputters, he continues to speak, this time to security and the principal. “I think you should let my child go back to his classes. This isn’t something he should be missing school for.”

Jeremy is full-on grinning. He and Michael stand, and security sighs but allows them to leave. Jeremy waves at his father, and Mr. Heere says, “See you at home, kid.”

Jeremy is quiet during dinner. It isn’t too uncommon, but this is a thoughtful quiet. As Mr. Heere gets up to get seconds, Jeremy says, “Thanks… for this afternoon.”

Mr. Heere only smiles and pats his shoulder.

He wonders what it will be the next day. It seems to him that Jeremy is building up to something, like Christine had suggested. He wonders if it is the skirt they were building up to, as he butters his toast.

Jeremy walks into the kitchen and grabs a cup from the dish rack, going to the fridge and studying the contents inside for a moment before grabbing the carton of orange juice. He is wearing the blue tunic top he’d gotten during the week Mr. Heere is away.

It is getting warm in the days, so Jeremy isn’t wearing his cardigan, but he is clutching it like a security blanket before putting it in his backpack. He eats his breakfast quickly, making Mr. Heere worry that he’d make himself sick, and leaves with a wave.

Mr. Heere has to go into the office today, so he isn’t there when Jeremy gets home. That evening, when he comes into the kitchen, where Jeremy is eating a snack, he asks him how his day went, silently asking if he had been okay during school.

Jeremy sort of shrugs, like he isn’t sure himself. He helps his father make dinner.

“Michael almost got in a fight today,” Jeremy announces while they are eating.

“What – why? What happened?” Mr. Heere asks. Michael Mell is _not_ the type to get into fights.

Jeremy bites his lip, poking at his food as if he’s lost his appetite suddenly. “It was my fault…” Mr. Heere waits for more information. “Someone said something about me.” Jeremy fiddles with his shirt, and Mr. Heere understands what he means.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that’s your fault,” Mr. Heere tries.

“That’s what Michael said, too.” Jeremy continues to poke at his food. He is silent the rest of the meal, only shrugging or humming when his father says anything.

Jeremy goes to his room after dinner and doesn’t emerge until the next morning. He is wearing the skirt with some leggings that Mr. Heere had never seen before, but he just assumes that Jeremy had bought them recently.

Jeremy seems almost reluctant to leave the house. Mr. Heere is about to say what Christine had said, that he doesn’t really need to do this, but before he can say anything, Jeremy notices his worried glance. “I’m fine,” he assures him, offering a small smile.

Jeremy leaves after finishing his orange juice.

Jeremy doesn’t come back home that afternoon. Instead, Mr. Heere receives a text from him that says, ‘staying over at Michaels tonite.’

Mr. Heere sends back: ‘ok. How was your day?’

 **Jeremy: (3:01 PM)** it was

 **Jeremy: (3:02 PM)** it was not terrible

 **Jeremy: (3:02 PM)** I’ll tell you about it tomorrow

Jeremy comes home the next day in mid-morning. Mr. Heere is making breakfast, so he prepares an extra plate for him.

“Hey,” Jeremy says, sliding into his usual seat. Mr. Heere gives him a wave and then serves them both. Jeremy is quiet for a bit, drowning his pancakes in syrup before looking up at his father. “Dad?”

“Yes, Jeremy?”

“I’m not your son.” Jeremy fidgets, poking at his food like he’s suddenly lost his appetite again.

“You’re my kid,” Mr. Heere confirms.

Mr. Heere can’t help but feel pleased at the smile that spreads across Jeremy’s face. Jeremy nods, taking a bite of his food.


End file.
